


fix me with your grace (i touched the flames and burned down everything)

by golden_hestia



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst, Branding, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Knight!Mark, M/M, Magic, Minor Character Death, Non-Graphic Violence, Slow Burn, prince!ethan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:35:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29087703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/golden_hestia/pseuds/golden_hestia
Summary: Ethan jumped at the sound of a loud shout and opened his eyes instinctively. He gasped when instead of seeing his dimly lit bathing chamber, he was staring at the castle from the top of the snowy mountains that frame the village. Surrounded by snow and ice.“You’ve done well to prevent this meeting, Your Highness,” a female voiced echoed around him, “but eventually, all of my children must awaken.”-Prince Ethan had always been different from the rest of the Royal Family, but he never knew why. All it took was his Father's death and the guidance of his knight for him to discover an entire world that he believed to be from faery tales.
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor
Comments: 6
Kudos: 96





	fix me with your grace (i touched the flames and burned down everything)

**Author's Note:**

> so this was something i really challenged myself to write. I've never written anything like this before. hopefully you all enjoy it :)

Prince Ethan sighed, lounging in his bed as servants swarmed his bedchamber. A loud knock on his door had rudely woken him up from a peaceful sleep. He hadn’t expected to be awoken at sunrise, but apparently Father had other plans. 

He didn’t see why it was so important that he attend today’s festivities. A visit from a foriegn monarch hardly justified the presence of the entire Royal Family in his opinion, especially the second son of the King. But he guessed that Father had wanted to present a welcoming and unified front for whomever had embarked on a trip this far North. 

“Excuse me, Your Highness,” one of the servant girls squeaked, bowing her head as she approached the end of his bed, “your bath has been drawn, sir.” 

Without saying a word, he slid from his bed and walked by, the servants bowing their heads as he passed. 

He entered the adjoining bathing chamber, someone closing the door behind him. He grimaced at the steam coming off of the bath water and quickly went to open the window. The crisp morning air gusted into the chamber and Ethan breathed it in deeply. He couldn’t understand the connection that he had with the cold. Every other member of his family was often draped in furs and cloaks, demanding that the fire’s constantly be burning year-round. 

But not Ethan. The winter was when he felt the most alive and at peace. His Mother would joke that he was one of the fabled Sons of Winter. He would brush it off and remind her that despite being born in autumn, he had been brought into the world during one of the worst blizzard’s the kingdom had ever experienced. Of course he would have a special connection with the cold. He had been born into it. 

As the cold swirled around him, Ethan toyed with the silver cuffs that spanned from his wrist to mid forearm. They were warm to the touch and Ethan knew the markings in the metal better than anything else. He dreaded taking them off, even for bathing. He hated the way that his chest would fill with pins and needles that would trail down to the tips of his fingers. How he would become unfocused and hear faint whispers from over his shoulder. It had plagued him ever since he had turned 5 and no one could figure out what was wrong with the younger Prince. Some believed him to be insane or possessed. His brother hadn’t experienced symptoms like he had and every one of his Father’s advisors had been at a loss. 

Father ended up having physicians journey from across the Kingdom’s to try and figure out what was causing his distress. In the end, a local healer had recommended that he start to wear items made of silver. Silver cuffs had been commissioned for him and the first clear memory he can recall was when they were first fastened to his wrists and his mind and body fell still. No more discomfort or confusion. 

Ever since then, Ethan had relied heavily on the precious metal cuffs that he cherished more than any of his other possessions. Some of the worst days of his life were when his cuffs grew too tight for his wrists and he had to wait for larger ones to be forged. They made him normal like the rest of his family. 

With a deep breath, he unclasped his left cuff and gently set it down on a stool next to the bath. He quickly removed the right cuff and got undressed as the discomfort started to build in his chest. 

He dipped his hand into the bath water and was pleased that the temperature had cooled to a bearable lukewarm. A hushed whisper from behind him almost had him turning around to face the intruder, but he knew better. It was routine for him by now, to close his eyes as soon as the voices started and try to ignore them. It made bathing difficult, fumbling around for the soap and cloth, but it prevented him from acknowledging the voices from the corners of the chamber. 

Ethan jumped at the sound of a loud shout and opened his eyes instinctively. He gasped when instead of seeing his dimly lit bathing chamber, he was staring at the castle from the top of the snowy mountains that frame the village. Surrounded by snow and ice. 

“You’ve done well to prevent this meeting, Your Highness,” a female voiced echoed around him, “but eventually, all of my children must awaken.” 

Ice cold wind swirled around him, holding him in place as he tried to look around for the source of the voice, but he was left staring at his home.

“Who are you?” He demanded. 

“Soon enough you will come to know who I am. But that is not why I have brought you here, Ethan. You see that naval convoy approaching the kingdom?” 

Just along the horizon, Ethan could make out a large convoy of royal ships, carrying another King into their kingdom. “Yes I can see it.” 

“Be weary of them. They do not come here with pure hearts.” 

“What do you mean?” He asked sharply. 

“I do not want to see one of my children harmed on this day.” 

_“Your Highness?”_

Ethan blinked and found himself back in his chambers, a pair of icy blue eyes seared into his brain. 

“Your Highness, I’m afraid you’re going to have to come and get dressed soon or else you’ll be late.” 

“I’m almost finished,” he announced, confused over what had just happened. He looked around the room and couldn’t figure out what was off with it. Something in the back of his mind was telling him that something was wrong and he didn’t know what. 

He pulled himself out of the cold water and gasped at the purple tinge to his skin. He reached for his robe and rushed to wrap it around himself, before hurrying over to close the window. A quick glance outside made his stomach turn and the discomfort in his chest increased at the sight of the naval ships pulling into port. 

Ethan reached over to his cuffs and frowned at the layer of condensation on them as he clasped them back into place. He rubbed it off with his sleeve and sighed in relief as the pins and needles stopped. A quick hand through his hair had him frowning as the ends had frozen. He scrubbed as much of the ice out as he could before he entered his bedroom. The wave of heat hit him like a ton of bricks as he hadn’t realized the temperature difference that had been created. 

Immediately, he was guided to his closet where he was presented with his formal robes. He got dressed robotically, having the routine down after so many years of having attended events like this. The smooth fabric felt too hot on his skin as he was presented with layer after layer of clothing. He had to put his foot down when he was handed his fur coat, instead compromising with a lighter fall coat. He carefully buttoned it up all the way to his chin like he knew he Mother expected and let his hands fall to his sides as his cloak was brought out. 

He had never been able to fasten his brooch to his coat properly and dutifully held still while his Mother’s head dresser carefully draped the fabric around his shoulders and pinned it together at his left shoulder with his favourite silver brooch. He was then handed his leather gloves and stepped into his freshly polished boots before he was dragged back into his bedchamber to have his hair tamed. 

A knock at his chamber door had him turning his head as a servant peaked out to see who it was. He was very aware of the careful exhale that the man doing his hair let out. Had he been anyone other than a member of the royal family, there was no doubt that he would have been more vocal with his frustration. 

“Good morning, Your Highness,” a familiar deep voice rumbled. 

He perked up as his knight entered the room. His long hair, intricately braided back and his beard freshly trimmed. Instead of the usual armour he donned, he had on the formal attire for the King’s Guard. A knee length overcoat with large bronze epaulettes and Ethan’s coat of arms embroidered over his heart, signifying his rank as the fourth highest member of the Guard. Along with that was the knee high boots that Ethan knew Mark despised for their impracticality. His sword was sheathed at his side and Ethan was surprised that he was carrying his shield on his back. 

“Good morning, Mark,” he said, giving him a tired smile. He winced at the discomfort he experienced when his crown, also made of silver, was placed on his head roughly. 

“Excited for the festivities?” Mark chirped, stationing himself next to the door. 

“Thrilled,” he muttered, waving off the frantic apologies he was receiving. 

Mark had been his knight ever since his 18th birthday when his Father had personally assigned him from the King’s Guard. His Father had declared that Mark excelled in combat and strategy, which had proven himself worthy of being a knight to the Prince. He was also Ethan’s best friend.

No matter how hard he had tried, Ethan had never been able to get Mark to explain how exactly he had proven himself worthy, He was 24 now and Mark still deflected the question, no matter how many times Ethan poked and prodded at him. 

“Alright Your Highness, you’re ready to go!” 

Ethan gratefully stood up from his bed and quickly glanced out his bedchamber window. Angry green sails stared back at him and he couldn’t shake off the discomfort he felt while looking at it. 

He signalled for everyone to leave and once he and Mark were alone he strode up to the window. “I have a bad feeling about today.” 

Mark looked at him curiously, “what do you mean?” 

Ethan reached into his sleeve to run his fingers along the ridges of his cuff, “I don’t know how to explain it. But I think you should be on the lookout for anyone with ill intentions today.” 

Mark frowned in alarm, “are you suggesting that there might be someone trying to commit treason?” 

“I don’t know. Yes. Maybe?” He sighed and glanced out his window, “but don’t tell Father about it.” 

Mark’s eyebrows shot into his hairline as he took a step forward out of his post, “forgive me Your Highness, but are you asking me to keep knowledge of a potential attempt at treason from the King?” 

Ethan winced at how that sounded out loud, “I guess that really is what I’m asking, isn’t it?” 

Mark nodded his head, “yes, that is exactly what you’re asking me to do. Please, tell me where you heard these rumours.” 

“I can’t,” he rushed, his hand going back to his cuff immediately. “You’ll think I’m insane.” 

Mark tracked the movement and Ethan cursed himself at how careless he had been. Of course Mark would catch that. “Did you remove your cuffs this morning, Your Highness?” 

He slowly nodded his head and felt his cheeks heat up. Mark was one of few people outside of his family who knew of his condition. Even though his knight had never judged him for it, they had scarcely discussed what happened to him when he removed his cuffs. 

Mark looked over his shoulder at the closed door before he left his post and strode over to him. Mark placed his gloved hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently, heat blistering his skin even through so many layers of clothing. “You know those voices aren’t real.” 

He pressed his lip into a fine line and refused to meet Mark’s eyes, “this time was different.” 

“Different how?” Mark asked, gently. 

“It wasn’t just voices, It was a vision. One second I was in the bath, the next I was at the top of the mountain, staring at the convoy as it approached the port. There was this woman’s voice, and she told me to be careful, that these people meant to harm us. _Harm me.”_

He looked up expecting judgement from Mark, but was relieved when he was met with his knight’s kind eyes. “Ok.” 

“Do you think I’m insane?” He asked quietly. 

Mark immediately shook his head, “absolutely not. You believe there is a legitimate threat to yourself and the Crown. As your knight, it is my duty to protect you from anything that you feel is a danger.” 

“Are you going to tell Father?” 

Mark sighed and hooked his thumbs into his belt, “do you want me to tell the King?” 

He quickly shook his head, knowing how uncomfortable his Father felt about the voices in his head, “no.” 

“Then I won’t tell the King.” Mark stated, simple as that. “But we need to be going, or else you’ll be late.” 

He took in a deep breath and adjusted his crown, “can we stop by the armoury first?” 

“Whatever makes you feel safer, Your Highness.” 

Together they left his chambers for the armoury in the lower levels of the castle, Mark dutifully falling a step behind him. He hardly even noticed the throng of people as they bowed their heads as he passed. 

Mark grabbed a torch as they descended the staircase towards the armoury and helped him pull open the heavy wooden door. 

He hurried past the Guard’s weaponry and armour towards the Royal Vault. The two Guard’s on either side of the heavy iron door seemed surprised to see him as they quickly resumed their posts, “Your Highness. Sir Fischbach.” 

Mark waved them away, “the Prince would like some privacy, please resume your post at the entrance to the armoury.” 

“Yes, Sir.” The two men left the front of the Vault and resumed their post by the wooden door to the armoury. 

Mark handed him the torch and reached out, lifting the heavy metal bar in front of the Vault and heaving the thick door open. 

Ethan cautiously stepped inside, handing Mark back the torch as he began to search for his daggers. 

“What are you looking for, Your Highness?” Mark’s voice echoed around him. 

“Either my long throwing daggers or my bow,” he muttered as he passed his brother’s collection of long swords. 

“It’s over here!” 

Ethan backtracked towards Mark as his knight grabbed one of his quivers from a high shelf and handed it to him before pulling down his two long daggers in their sheaths. “I believe I saw your bow over with the Queen’s.” 

He counted the arrows in his quiver as he walked towards the back of the Vault where his Mother kept her bows and frowned when he was 3 arrows short. He usually kept around 24 arrows in his quiver at any given time. He pulled out 3 arrows from his Mother’s quiver and easily spotted his larger bow amongst her collection. 

Ethan swept his cloak away and undid the lower buttons of his coat so he could fasten his dagger sheaths to his belt. 

“Is that the most practical place for those, Your Highness?” Mark asked as he took the quiver from him and went to grab his bow. “Will you be able to pull them?” 

“I’m hoping I won’t have to use them,” he confessed, “but if I leave the bottom half of my coat unbuttoned I’ll be able to pull them. I might just have to adjust my cloak to cover it. Mother would kill me if she saw.” 

Mark nodded and held out his quiver, “I grabbed your hip quiver. I know it’s lower than you’re used to, but if you’re looking for discretion, your cloak will hide most of it.” 

He nodded his head in approval and without asking for help, Mark carefully pulled his cloak away so he could clasp the leather straps around his waist and thigh. 

Mark released his cloak and adjusted it until he nodded his head in satisfaction, “I think it’s decently concealed. You’ll just have to be careful of any wind.” 

“Thank you for humouring me, Mark.” He said quietly as they exited the Vault. “For all we know this is just an overreaction and I know that I’m asking a lot of you to betray Father.” 

Mark shrugged and gestured for the Guards to resume their post as they passed. “You’re my charge, not the King. You’re also my friend and it’s my duty to make you feel safe.” 

“Well, you’ve done great so far,” he joked, giving Mark a small smile. “Oh, wait!” he turned around to face the Guards, “I have a request. Hide the Vault.” 

They both looked at him, confused but bowed their heads, “of course, Your Highness.” 

“I don’t care how you do it, preferably with objects that are difficult to move. But I want the Royal Vault hidden from anyone who enters. Once that’s finished, resume your post in front of the armoury doors. I shall personally see that you’re given a raise for your efforts.” 

“In addition to the Prince’s wishes, complete this task on your own. I know that it might be difficult, but the less people that know about it, the better.” Mark commanded. 

Both Guard’s nodded, “as you wish, Sir. Fischbach.” 

Mark guided him out of the armoury, the loud scrapes of shelves and artillery echoing from behind them. 

“Having the Royal Vault protected was a smart decision,” Mark commented, before a burning sensation appeared on his lower back. 

Ethan winced as Mark guided him up the stairs, having left the torch in the armoury for the Guards. Mark always ran hot, but for some reason, his touch was burning his skin even through all his clothing. 

The bells tolled overhead and Ethan heard Mark swear under his breath as the pressure and heat on his back intensified. They raced up the stairs and towards the Great Hall, servants jumping out of the way as the Prince and his knight raced past. Ethan could hear angry voices as they got closer to the Great Hall and he and Mark skidded to a stop just outside the entrance. 

He straightened out his cloak and crown before rolling his shoulders back and looking at Mark. His knight had slung his bow over his back and had put on his serious face. 

Ethan took a deep breath and entered the Great Hall. Father spotted him immediately, leaving the conversation that he had been having with Mother and his brother. The look he received was venomous. He shrunk under his Father’s gaze and bowed his head, “Father, I’m sorry.” 

As his Father approached, Ethan saw Mark drop to one knee out of the corner of his eye and that made Ethan feel even more alone. 

“Ethan, what have I told you about tardiness? We cannot afford to ruin this opportunity. The Viken Kingdom has offered to extend an olive branch that we cannot refuse. An alliance with them would do wonders for Nordicia.” 

“Of course, Father. I understand.” 

“You’re lucky that you’ve arrived just in time. We were just about to embark together.” 

“Yes, Father.” 

The bells stopped tolling and he went to stand next to his brother. Mark rose to his feet and assumed his place next to his brother’s knight, Rhyann. 

“So glad you could join us, Ethan,” Andrew whispered, nudging his side. 

“Shut up,” he grumbled, elbowing him back. 

Together as a family they walked to the large doors of the Great Hall and Ethan could hear horns blowing on the other side. Just the doors started to creak open, Ethan heard a faint whisper from behind him. His heart started to race in his chest and he instinctively reached into his sleeve for his cuff. 

_That wasn’t possible. The cuffs are supposed to keep you away._

There was a dull discomfort starting behind his left collarbone and Ethan didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t just leave, he knew how important this was to Father. So he tried to push the discomfort to the back of his mind and pasted a big smile on his face as he walked out onto the courtyard. 

The Army band began to play and he could hear shouts from the large crowd beyond the castle walls. 

The discomfort in his chest grew at the sight of the deep blue Nordicia banners next to the green of Viken. He scanned his surroundings and frowned when everything seemed to be normal. 

Once the drawbridge started to lower, the pins and needles started progressing down his arms. Sweat started to bead at the back of his neck and despite the fact that the rest of his family was bundled up in their furs, he was sweltering. 

As soon as the drawbridge lowered into place and Ethan caught sight of the Viken envoy, hushed voices started swirling around his head. His breath hitched as an airy female voice warned him of nearing danger. His vision became blurry as blue mist started to swirl in the air around him. Something in the back of his mind clicked together as he realized he was seeing the wind. He watched in awe as it would dance through his Mother’s hair and tug at their coats. 

As the Viken King approached them, he couldn’t help himself as he reached under his coat for his left dagger. His fingers wrapped around the hilt just as his Father stepped forward to greet the foreign King. 

He tuned out his Father’s voice as the wind shifted from the south and started blowing towards them. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he frantically scanned the tops of the castle walls for what was wrong. 

_South western tower,_ one of the voices told him. 

Just as he saw the lone archer facing the wrong way nock an arrow in the tower, Mark’s hand was burning his shoulder, whipping his shield out to protect him. 

He felt the arrow as it sliced through the icy wind and pierced into his Father’s shoulder. 

Everything was frozen for a brief second while people tried to process what had just happened. It wasn’t until his Father fell to his knees and his Mother screamed that shouts and battlecries from both sides started as they charged at each other. He couldn’t see the rest of his family as Mark shoved him back towards the castle. “ _Move Your Highness!”_

Ethan resisted as Mark’s touch burned his skin. He reached around to grab his bow from Mark and was quick to nock one of his own arrows. 

Being able to see the wind made it much easier for him to aim his shot. He let out a deep breath as he let the arrow go, his breath misting in front of his face. 

The arrow rang true into the neck of a Viken knight who fell to his knees clutching the arrow shaft. 

He realized that Mark might have been right about running when the attention turned away from Father and Andrew. Mother was nowhere in sight. 

“You’re such an idiot!” Mark cursed, wrapping his hand around Ethan’s wrist, the cuff preventing the burning touch he was used to and dragged him inside the castle. Shouts of, “ _capture the Son of Winter!”_ and _“don’t let him escape!”_ vaguely filtered through his ears as the voices tried to drown them out. 

They ran through the castle as a battalion of the King’s Guard ran past them with their swords and spears calling out battle commands. 

He felt sick to his stomach as he blindly let Mark lead him through his home. They ran behind the throne and Ethan tried to catch his breath as Mark ran his hands over the throne’s elevated stone platform. He heard the scraping of stone-on-stone as Mark pulled the back of the platform open, revealing a dark spiral staircase. “What is this?” 

“I’ll tell you later,” Mark rushed, guiding him inside the dank staircase before he dragged the door closed. They fell quiet just as the sounds of sword fighting and pained yells entered the Throne Room. 

Ethan pressed a gloved hand over his mouth to keep quiet and felt Mark shift around him and start descending the stairs, “we can’t stay here forever. Be careful and follow me.” 

Very carefully he felt around for the step and had to place his hand on the stone wall to try and support himself in the dark. He could hear Mark’s footsteps in front of him, but not being able to see made it much more difficult. 

They descended the staircase for a solid 5 minutes before they came to the end of it. Ethan’s eyes had adjusted to the dark a while ago. Mark carefully shoved the stone door open and peaked out to make sure the coast was clear before he gestured for Ethan to follow him. They had popped out in the Royal Catacombs. The dim torch light casting menacing shadows on the busts of the tombs of Ethan’s ancestors. Yet, Mark guided him expertly through the underground tunnels until they arrived at an old wooden door. The wood was rotten and covered in moss. Easily missable. 

Mark had to kick it open and Ethan covered his eyes as daylight shone into the damp catacombs. They had ended up at the base of the castle a short distance away from the stables. Mark jogged towards the empty stable as Ethan looked over his shoulder at the castle. He could hear the sounds of battle as smoke billowed from the courtyard. 

“This isn’t the time to think about what’s happening up there, Your Highness,” Mark reminded, waiting for Ethan to catch up. “We need to get you away from the castle.” 

“But my family,” he croaked. 

“They each have their own knight. Just like I’m yours. My duty is to get you safe. Just like theirs is to keep your family safe.” 

They entered the stable and Mark made quick work of opening the stall of his shire mare and getting her tacked up. 

Ethan raced around to grab her bridle as Mark tightened the girth on her saddle. Just as he handed Mark the bridle an arrow whizzed past his head and embedded itself into a stall door. 

He spun around with his eyes wide as Mark cursed loudly. A lone Viken soldier was unsheathing his sword as Mark charged at him. 

“Finish tacking her up!” Mark shouted as his sword clashed with the Viken’s. 

Ethan stood paralyzed for a split second before he hurried over to grab the bridle that had been abandoned on the ground and tried to put it on with shaking hands, pins and needles running up and down his arms. 

_“Look out Your Highness!”_

Ethan barely had time to spin around and cover his face before he felt the impact of a sword’s blade on his cuff. 

The blade shattered into ice crystals as it made contact with the cuff under his clothes and both he and the soldier gasped in disbelief. The soldier staggered back in fright and that gave Mark the perfect opportunity to hack at the back of the man’s legs with his sword, before plunging it into his back. Mark’s chest heaved as he pulled his sword out of the man and kicked him down onto his stomach. “We need to leave.” 

Ethan stared at his wrist in shock. Through the tiny gap of sin visible between his cuff and glove, he could see that his skin had a blue tinge. 

“Mark-” 

They both froze at the sounds of more soldiers coming. Mark was quick to kick over the lit brazier at the northern stable entrance, the loose hay on the ground catching, immediately creating a wall of fire that spooked the horses still in their stalls. 

“Start opening the stalls, don’t let them get the horses!” Mark commanded. 

Ethan hurried to start opening stall after stall, barely getting out of the way as horse after horse stampeded out the southern exit and towards the village. 

The heat was excruciating as Ethan breathed in smoke and dust. His cuffs felt like they were vibrating as he raced after Mark to his mare. They didn’t have time to walk her to the step so Mark picked him up and set him in the saddle, his feet fumbling into the stirrups. Mark hopped up after him and reached around him to grab at the reins, kicking her sides as she took off out of the burning stable. 

They thundered towards the village, the wind still visible as they raced away from the castle. 

_Look to the east._

Ethan’s head whipped around and saw half a dozen mounted soldiers charging after them and rapidly gaining ground. 

“Mark, we have a problem!” He hissed, trying to get his bow positioned and nock an arrow. He didn’t have much experience with mounted archery, but desperate times. 

He pointedly ignored the ice he could see building on the arrowhead and aimed at the flank of the leading horse. He let the arrow fly and quickly nocked another as he saw the horse crumple, tossing its rider and taking out a few more riders as well. 

As they entered the village, people were looking out of their homes as parts of the castle and stable burned. A few of them recognized him as they flew by, their fingers pointing at him with worry on their faces. 

Mark didn’t slow them down to ease their worry, instead urging the mare to go faster as her shoes clacked loudly against the cobblestone roads. 

“Where are we going?” He asked as they raced through the village towards the forest. 

“Somewhere safe,” Mark answered as he looked over his shoulder. “I don’t think that we’re being followed anymore, but I’m not taking that chance. Are you alright? You didn’t get hurt did you?” 

“No, I’m ok. Um. My cuff took the hit for me.” 

At the thought of his cuffs, Ethan glanced down at the slice in his coat and gasped when he saw the frost that lined the cut in the fabric. 

“What’s happening to me?” He whispered in horror as he tried to rub away the frost with his glove. 

“You’re ok,” Mark assured as they entered the forest. “Nothing’s wrong with you.” 

Ethan didn’t believe him as Mark slowed them down to a brisk trot to give his horse some rest. “It’s not too much farther now.” 

The weather seemed to get warmer the deeper into the forest they got and Ethan had to unbutton his coat. He didn’t understand as the pine trees gave way to trees full of green foliage. It was winter and these trees should have been bare. They passed through thick brush and emerged into a sunny clearing with a small pond and quaint cottage. Ethan gasped as he heard the loud chirping of cicadas, the sun beating down on him viciously. 

He spotted a woman lounging at the edge of the pond as his vision started to blur. Her skin looked like it was glowing as she lounged in a hammock. The voices in his head begged him to leave as Mark brought him closer and closer to this woman. Mark had to wrap an arm around his waist as he started to feel faint. Every point of contact between them was agony. 

The woman suddenly stood up and raced over to them. “You shouldn’t have brought him here!” 

They stopped in front of the cottage and the heat rolling off the woman made Ethan retch as mist puffed out of his mouth with every heave of his chest. 

“I didn’t know what else to do!” Mark hissed, maintaining a point of contact to keep him up right as he dismounted. “This is the only safe place I could think of.” 

“He’s a Son of Winter! I’m Summer! Being here will kill him!” 

“Where else was I supposed to take him? I don’t know where Winter lives!” 

“Get him inside! Get all those clothes off of him and do whatever you can to cool him down. I’ll see if I can get into contact with Winter.” 

Ethan was vaguely aware of himself being lifted off the horse and couldn’t help the whine he let out as Mark carried him inside. He was set down on a bed and Mark removed his crown and unpinned his brooch, letting his cloak fall off. Next, Mark unbuttoned his coat and pushed it off his shoulders before he started undoing the clasps of his robes. With each layer that came off, he found it easier to breathe. But the voices were still telling him to get the hell away from this place. 

Once Ethan was left with just his tunic and trousers on, Mark gasped, “Oh, Ethan.” 

Hearing Mark refer to him by name caused his eyelids to flutter open in surprise. He could count on one hand the amount of times that it had happened in 6 years. He caught sight of what Mark was referring to immediately. 

The area of his sleeves that covered his cuffs were frozen to the silver, a rapidly growing layer of ice encasing the fabric. 

“Summer!” Mark shouted, “Summer, get in here!” 

Ethan felt the temperature rapidly increase and hissed as the pins and needles feeling flooded his entire body. 

“Oh my Gods!” He heard the female voice curse. “No wonder he’s in pain, he can’t cool himself. Get those off of him!” 

He felt someone grab at his arms and quickly pulled them into his chest protectively. Through his foggy brain he could figure out that they wanted to take his cuffs off and he couldn’t let that happen. His cuffs kept him safe. 

“Ethan they need to come off,” Mark insisted, “you’ll feel better if they come off.” 

He weakly shook his head and curled in on himself to protect his cuffs, “gotta keep ‘em on.” 

“Your Highness, those cuffs are causing you great harm. You’ll feel much better if we can take them off.” 

“Ethan please. You trust me don’t you? Would I ever let something happen to you?” 

Ethan let what Mark said swim around in his head before he carefully held out his arm. His knight would never let him get hurt. 

He felt pressure on his cuffs and a loud sizzle before it was removed. The other one was quick to follow. As soon as they were both off, Ethan took in a deep breath and cold air filled his lungs. Almost immediately the burning feeling he felt disappeared as he flopped back into the bed, asleep. 

As soon as his head hit the pillow he found himself looking over the castle from the mountains again. He couldn’t stop his lip from curling up in disgust at the sight of his home draped in Viken banners. The courtyard was still smoking and he could only imagine the damage that had been done on the inside. 

“What happened today was horrible, but your instincts prevailed. I’m proud of you.” 

He looked to his left to see a frail old woman standing next to him. He wasn’t surprised at her sudden appearance, if anything seeing this stranger brought him a sense of peace. 

“I’m sure you have questions. Today must have been scary for you, having been imprisoned for so long. But you have shown great courage. Worthy of a King. Worthy of a Son of Winter.” 

Thoughts of his family fluttered through his mind, but here in this place, he found that he wasn’t concerned. He remained calm. 

“Why did Viken attack us?” He asked instead. 

The old woman scoffed, “for power. Their King is mad. He believes that if he kills Children of the Seasons that he will take their power. You were next on his list. He had already slaughtered a Daughter of Spring and a Son of Autumn. He thought you would be the easiest to conquer. He was wrong.” 

The old woman turned to face him and Ethan finally got a good look at her face. She was frail but he could feel the power she expelled. Her hair was snow white, tied in a tight bun and her skin was icy blue. What stood out most was her eyes, Ethan had seen her and her eyes before. 

“You my Son possess a power that the Kingdom’s haven’t seen in generations. But it is beaten and confused. You’ve been deprived of your birthright and need to be built back up to what you must become. But for now, rest. We shall speak soon.” 

Ethan sat up with a start, his hands grasping for his wrists. He gasped when he didn’t feel the familiar metal of his cuffs and frantically looked around until he spotted them on a table not too far away; his crown, brooch, daggers and quiver neatly laid out next to them. His eyes widened as he slid off the bed and stared at the two solid blocks of ice that had encased his cuffs. 

It was then that he realized he wasn’t hearing any voices and he didn’t feel any discomfort. He let out a breath in surprise and a cloud of mist puffed out. He frowned in confusion and exhaled again. Another cloud of mist appeared and he clapped a hand over his mouth. He stumbled backwards and tried to remember how he got here in this tiny, one room cottage. He vaguely remembered the attack at the castle and Mark leading him through the catacombs. But after that, it was a blur. 

He caught sight of himself in the mirror and gasped as he saw his reflection. The tips of his hair had turned white and his complexion was much paler than he remembered it being. The bright light that was shining in through the windows made his skin feel tight. He reached for his cloak that had been neatly draped over one of the only two chairs in the room with his other clothes. He wrapped it around himself and pulled up his hood before he cautiously peaked out the door. He knew Mark was around, his shield and sword were leaned against the wall, his overcoat neatly folded next to them. 

He recoiled at how intense the sun was despite being so low in the sky, and held his hand over his face. He spotted Mark in the distance, with his tunic sleeves rolled up, one hand on his hip, the other stroking his mare’s neck. His knight was deep in conversation with two women. The one he recognized immediately as the healer who had recommended the cuffs to Father. The other woman was around the same age as Mark with long dirty blond hair.

He leaned against the doorframe and blew out another cloud of mist, watching it shine in the bright sunlight. 

The healer locked eyes on him and bowed her head before hobbling over. “Good morning, Your Highness.” 

He pulled his cloak around him tighter and offered her a polite, royal smile, “good morning. It has been a while since we last saw each other.” 

Her eyes twinkled as she gave him a lopsided smile, “not as long as you think.” 

Mark hurried over and reached out to place a hand on his forehead, “are you feeling better, Your Highness?” 

He had tensed for the burn that always came with Mark’s touches, but looked at him with wide eyes when he felt no pain. Mark gave him a soft smile and moved his hand to squeeze his shoulder, “I’m glad.”

“I’m confused,” he confessed, looking around. “What happened? How did we get here?” 

“I think it’s best if we have this conversation inside,” the younger woman stated, her tan skin glowing. “It is nice to finally meet you, Your Highness. I’m Summer.” 

Ethan nodded politely and followed as she led them back inside. He sat back down on the bed as the two women sat in chairs. Mark opting for standing guard by the door. 

“Tell me child,” the healer started. “What do you know of the Children of the Seasons?” 

He scrunched up his face, “do you mean the faery tales? Sons and Daughters of every season that are born with magic?” 

The old woman nodded her head, “yes. But I’m afraid they are more than faery tales. There is much truth behind those stories.” 

“What do you mean?” 

She laughed quietly, “surely you have noticed the changes in your appearance, Your Highness. Your visible breath, frosty hair and skin as pale as snow.” 

He self consciously ran a hand through his hair. 

“You, Prince Ethan, are a Son of Winter. The first to be born in a very long time.” 

“But - but that can’t be true.” He insisted, fiddling with his wrists. “I’m a Nestor Prince.” 

“That you are. But you are _also_ one of my children.” 

Ethan blinked and the old woman in front of him transformed. Her grey hair had turned white and her skin blue. 

He recoiled in shock and looked over at Mark who had a calm look on his face. At Ethan’s startled expression, the knight left his post and sat next to him, letting him grasp at his hand for comfort. 

“I am Winter,” she announced, her breath misting like his had. “And you are second in line to the Nordician throne, a blood heir to the King and Queen. But you are also my Son.” 

He shook his head, “I don’t understand.” 

“All of those years ago, when the King first came to me. He told me about his youngest son. You were having trouble concentrating and felt discomfort in your chest as your magic started awakening. I recommended that you be given _small_ items of silver, to absorb the power that a child could not handle. What happened instead was that you were put into chains, those cuffs were designed to trap your power, not harness it. Your magic was left locked away, floundering for survival.” 

She gestured to his cuffs in disgust, still encased in ice, despite the heat. “That is what happens when 19 years of energy is stored away, unused and forgotten about. Because you weren’t using your magic, all of your power was stored in them. But everything has its limit and eventually the silver couldn’t store anymore. You would've died if the Son of Summer had not brought you here.” 

“Son of Summer?” He said slowly, looking over at Mark. 

His knight looked guilty, scratching his beard in the way Ethan knew meant he was uncomfortable. “Yes, Your Highness. I’m a Son of Summer.” 

He looked over at the younger woman who had remained silent. “You said your name was Summer?” 

She bowed her head, her skin becoming much brighter and her eyes burned orange as she met his eyes, “a pleasure, Your Highness.” 

“Why would Father do this to me?” He questioned, feeling lost. 

“Fear,” Winter said simply. “Your Father was scared of what you could become. You must’ve noticed the way your family recoils in the winter? But you were born into it. I created that blizzard to welcome you into the world. You are Winter.” 

She reached out and grabbed his free hand, flipping it so it was palm up. “But you’ve been awakened at long last. And not a moment too soon. The Viken King has taken control of Nordicia and he has the power of two Children of the Seasons.” 

“What happened to my family? Is Father-?” 

“No one knows the state of the Royal Family, Your Highness,” Summer said airly, “but the people of the village believe that you have fled Nordicia.” 

“Which is a good thing,” Mark butted in, giving his hand a squeeze, “it means that no one will come looking for us. Not that anyone could find us here anyways.” 

“It gives you time to learn how to harness your magic,” Winter said carefully, “we need you in order to reclaim Nordicia, Your Highness. It is your destiny.” 

Ethan looked down at his boots and watched as condensation appeared on the scuffed toes, quickly turning into a thin layer of frost. “I wasn’t even meant to be King.” 

“No, you’re meant to be so much more. Together with the Son of Summer, you will defeat the Viken King and liberate this Kingdom. You can feel the power growing in you, now that it’s free. I know you can.” 

He pressed his lips together and watched as the frost got thicker and thicker. He could feel something behind his collarbone, something that was taking up a larger and larger place in his chest. 

“Your Highness?” Mark said softly. 

Ethan looked up at him and then down at their joined hands, his cheeks going pink as he saw the thick layer of ice that had enveloped their hands. “Oh. Um, I’m sorry.” 

He tugged at their hands and flushed brighter when he realized he didn’t know how to get rid of the ice. 

Mark must’ve taken pity on him, because his knight gave him a soft smile and the ice started to hiss as it melted away. “Don’t apologize. It takes time.” 

He let Mark’s hand go and clutched it to his chest, missing the protection that he felt from his cuffs. “I think I need some air.” 

He stumbled out of the cottage and towards the pond where Mark’s mare was grazing. He collapsed to his knees in front of the water and looked at his rippling reflection. He could see more white in his hair and dug his fingers into the soft, mossy earth. 

_He didn’t ask for any of this._

Ethan felt a dull rage building and tried to will it away. But the more he tried, the more frustrated and angry he became. 

The pond began to freeze in front of him and that made his anger worse. He watched as the tips of his fingers started to turn blue and the ground beneath him began to freeze. He could feel the surrounding area slowly dying as his rage spread out the cold. 

“Your Highness?” 

He didn’t turn around. He growled low in his throat as the Son of Summer slowly got closer. 

“Go away,” he warned, watching as the pond froze solid. 

“I’m worried about you. You aren’t acting like yourself.” 

He laughed bitterly and rose to his feet. “This is who I am. Did you not hear Winter? This was what Father tried desperately to prevent me from becoming.” 

“The King had good intentions.” 

A cold wind blew into the clearing and he could feel the impending storm. Blue mist swirled around him as the icy wind was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. The cold couldn’t help itself as he called it to him. 

“Winter?” He heard the Son of Summer call out cautiously. “I think you need to come out here.” 

“Are you scared?” 

“Of Prince Ethan? Never.” 

“I am Prince Ethan.” 

“No you’re not. You’re years of repressed power finally seeing the light of day and consuming someone who is fearful and inexperienced.” 

He laughed darkly and spun around, throwing a large icicle at the Son of Summer. 

The man dodged it and looked at him with wide eyes, _“Winter, get out here!”_

He lobbed another icicle as it started to snow. “I thought you weren’t afraid of me?” 

The Son of Summer gave him a dark look as his eyes flashed a bright orange. “I’m not.” 

“Prove it.” 

The snow swirled around him as he willed the frost through the ground towards the man's feet. 

“I won’t hurt you, Your Highness,” The Son of Summer warned, the grass around his feet sizzling. 

“You couldn’t hurt me if you tried,” he boasted. 

He tracked the man’s movement as he walked a slow circle around him. The frost melting beneath his feet. Once the circle was completed the man smiled at him before he snapped his fingers. 

Fire erupted from the circumference of the circle and he panicked as the flames rose higher and started to creep closer. 

Snow and hail swirled around him protectively as he tried to push back the flames. It was as if the flames had a mind of their own as they carefully licked out to melt the ice and snow. Water started to pool at his feet, unable to absorb into the frozen ground beneath him as he clenched his teeth. 

“Fight it, Your Highness!” The Son of Summer shouted, muffled by the roar of the wind and fire. 

His chest started to ache as the circle of flames tightened. The sweat on the back of his neck froze and a layer of frost and ice had appeared at his temples. He was no match for the Son of Summer. The anger suddenly fizzled out and he was left fearful and exhausted.

“Mark!” He called out desperately, “Mark help!” 

The flames blew away in an instant and he looked around frantically for his knight. The cold wind dying down as a gentle snow fell overhead and the clouds began to part. His heart thumped in his ears when he couldn’t see Mark. He looked over to the cottage and gasped as a wall of ice had formed in front of the door, trapping Winter and Summer inside. 

Ethan yelped as an arm wrapped around his waist and something hard was placed on his head. His hands flew up and grasped at the familiar ridges of his crown as a feeling of stability washed over him. The arm held him in place, firm but gentle. He didn’t need to turn his head to see who it was. The skin of Mark’s forearm appeared to glow as he held onto him, grounding him as he calmed down. “You’re ok. Everything’s alright. Just breathe through it. Your crown will help.” 

“I’m sorry,” he rushed out, trying to spin around to face Mark, “I’m so sorry.” 

He wrapped his arms around Mark’s middle and buried his face in his shoulder as he felt a sob get caught in his throat, “I didn’t mean to. I don’t know what happened.” 

Mark wrapped his other arm around him and held him tightly. “That must’ve been the longest you’ve gone without wearing silver in a long time. Your power overwhelmed you and you didn’t have any way of managing it. 19 years is a long time to be trapped away and then set free.” 

They stood there for what felt like forever. Mark held him until his sobs turned into sniffles. Mark never once relaxed the tight hold he had on him and Ethan felt like his knight was physically holding him together. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, “you’re my knight, not my Mother.” 

“My job is to protect you,” Mark said quietly, “and that’s exactly what I’m doing.” 

“Thank you,” he mumbled, “thank you for protecting me from myself. I’m so scared, Mark. I don’t know what I’m going to do.” 

“I know. It’s ok to be scared. But you will learn to trust yourself and we will get the Kingdom back from the Viken’s.” 

Ethan nodded his head and wiped his nose with his sleeve. “You’ll be by my side?”

Mark let him go and knelt in front of him, “I’m duty-bound to your side. I gave you my heart, soul and body the day that you turned 18. I’ve served you dutifully for 6 years and will do so for the next 6 and even more after that. The crest I proudly wear on my chest is not the Crown’s or the King’s, but yours, Your Highness. I will be at your side until the day my heart stops beating.” 

Ethan’s mouth went dry at Mark’s declaration. He could feel his crown humming with the nervous energy it was collecting as he stared down at the earnest look on his knights face. Snow swirled around them as Ethan’s heart hammered in his chest, “rise, Mark.”

Mark did so slowly, never taking his eyes off of him as the sun peaked out from the clouds, casting Mark in a golden glow as the sun started to set. 

“Call me Ethan,” he choked out, feeling his cheeks heat up. “Please, my name is Ethan, there’s no need for formalities any longer. You’re my equal. My knight. My partner. My best friend. However you want to define our relationship. You saved my life today without a second thought and I don’t think I’ve thanked you for that. So much has happened in such a short amount of time and you’ve been here for me without hesitation. It is an honour to have you as my knight and it means everything to me that you’ll always be at my side when I need you.” 

“How wonderful.” 

The imaginary bubble around them popped as Winter hobbled by, his cuffs in her hands as she headed towards the entrance to the clearing. 

“That was quite a challenge removing that wall of ice, my Son,” she admired. “I actually had to put effort into it. Summer wanted to melt it but I insisted that I be the one to do it.” 

“Um, thank you?” 

She bowed her head, “I’m off to the village to have these wretched devices forged into something that will actually be of help to you. Something that will be much more practical than your crown. Summer has gone out in search of Spring and Autumn to try and assist us, but rest assured, the clearing is yours until we are ready to mount our attack.” 

“Thank you, Winter,” Mark said gratefully, “His Hi- _Ethan_ and I are grateful for your help.” 

The old woman waved her hand, a gust of wind following the action, “bah, of course I would help my only Son, especially after he has shown such potential in such a short amount of time.”

“I don’t know if I would call what just happened, ‘potential,’ more like chaos,” he sighed. 

“Your magic has been trapped away instead of harnessed. Today it saw its first taste of freedom and reacted impulsively. You will learn to control it. Just like the Son of Summer did with his and I with mine. It just takes time.” 

“Time that we might not have,” he reminded, “we still don’t know about the fate of my family.” 

“I shall feel around for knowledge about the state of the Royal Family, Your Highness.” 

“Thank you, Winter,” he bowed his head politely, “I hope I will do you proud.” 

“You already have, my Son. You already have. I bid you farewell, we shall meet again soon.” 

\--

Ethan sighed as he rolled over in bed, clutching his brooch. The bed was much smaller than he was used to and far lumpier, but it was better than nothing. 

He looked over at the fire in the hearth that Mark had lit with a snap of his fingers in wonder. He had never been able to tolerate being in such close proximity to an open flame before and it was liberating in some sense. When he asked Mark about it his knight had told him that his cuffs had absorbed so much power over the years that his magic was trying to reach out to him and reacted negatively to any kind of heat. Once they had been taken off, his magic was free and no longer needed the warning sign. Making heat bearable for the first time in his life. 

The door creaked open and Mark strode in from checking the perimeter of the clearing. He rested his sword back against the wall and collapsed into a chair, “we’ll be fine overnight. No one will find us.” 

He hummed and closed his eyes, listening as Mark grunted, trying to untie his boots. “How come you never told me you’re a Son of Summer?”

Mark sighed and he peaked his eyes open to see his knight slouched back with his hands behind his head, “because you thought they were faery tales. It wasn’t my place to turn your understanding of the world upside down. Especially since the King and Queen had gone to such extremes to keep your ignorance.” 

“Does Father know?” 

“About me being a Son of Summer? Not initially, but he found out during my knighting ceremony. Sons of Summer don’t burn easily.” 

He perked up at that and scrunched up his face in confusion, “what do you mean?” 

“My skin doesn’t burn as easily as it should,” Mark clarified, rubbing his palm over his heart. 

Ethan sat up, the blankets pooling around his waist as he looked at Mark in alarm, “what connection does your skin burning have to do with the knighting ceremony?” 

Mark’s eyes widened in surprise, “you don’t know what happens during a knighting ceremony do you?” 

“No, but you’re going to tell me,” he stated firmly. 

Mark pressed his lip together in a tight line before bowing his head, “of course.” 

Mark sat up and reached to pull his tunic over his head, holding the balled up fabric in front of his chest. “I told you earlier that I am duty-bound to your side. This is what I meant.” 

Ethan gasped as he saw the hand-sized scar that marred the skin on the left side of Mark’s chest. He fumbled his way out of the blankets and towards his knight. “ _Mark!”_

_EN_

His royal cypher stared back at him, angry, pink and raised against the otherwise smooth skin of Mark’s chest. His hands shook as they hovered over the scar, the edges of the crown on top weren’t as clearly defined as his initials but they were there nonetheless. Mark had been branded like cattle. 

_“Father did this to you?”_ He gasped, urgently looking to Mark for answers. 

“You hear rumours when you’re training in the King’s Guard,” Mark said calmly, “that those who are worthy enough to guard the Royal Family are branded to prove their loyalty to their Royal. They were just that, _rumours_ , until I was selected by the King to be your knight.” 

Ethan didn’t want to believe it, that his Father could be so cruel to another human being. But the evidence was staring him right in the face. His fingers drifted closer to the brand and eyes flickered up to Mark for permission. He received a single nod and delicately traced his fingers around the raised flesh. He had to bite his tongue to keep from crying at how calmly Mark was acting. “You were ok with this?” 

Mark shrugged and wrapped his fingers loosely around Ethan’s wrist, “think of it this way. We had all spent years training to become members of the King’s Guard. That alone would’ve been enough for me. But when I was selected by your Father, he asked me to prove my loyalty to you, his Son of Winter. I told him I would do anything to prove my loyalty. Knighthood was what we were all fighting for and I was no different. He and his knight took me down to the catacombs and he handed me a strip of leather and told me to bite on it. That was when I found out that the rumours were true.” 

The wind howled outside as Ethan felt a storm start drifting towards them. The tips of his fingers were turning blue and he could feel the hum of his brooch as he clutched it tightly. “Father told you I was a Son of Winter?” 

“Yes, he did. I didn’t believe him until I met you for the first time and saw your cuffs. No one’s ever met a Son of Winter in a long time.” 

He felt sick that his Father had kept something so important from him. How many knew who he truly was before he did?

“As soon as they pulled out the iron rod I couldn’t help but laugh and tell him that we would be there for a while. That was when he put the pieces together. He told me that I would be perfect as your knight. A Son of Summer for his Son of Winter. To hear the King say that I was perfect for you? It made it worth it.” 

Ethan swallowed the lump in his throat, “how long did this take?” 

Mark shrugged, “around an hour. If it makes you feel better, I didn’t feel a thing.” 

“That absolutely does not make me feel better. My cypher is branded on your chest for the rest of your life!” 

Mark’s grip on his wrist tightened and he tugged him closer, “Ethan, I wanted this. What’s done is done.” 

He whined low in his throat and looked at Mark with teary eyes, “I’m so sorry he did this to you.” 

Mark exhaled through his nose and pulled him in for a hug, “c’mere. It’s been a long day for both of us.” 

He nuzzled his nose into Mark’s shoulder as hail rained down on the cottage. He could feel that the ground around the cottage was rapidly freezing and ice was building on the windows. 

“Hey,” Mark mumbled, “where’s your silver? You don’t want to lose control again.” 

“I have my brooch,” he sniffed, taking in a deep breath through his nose. “I’m just upset is all.” 

Mark huffed out a laugh, “I can tell. There’s a blizzard outside. Maybe put your crown back on for a little while.”

He nodded his head and let Mark go as he shuffled over to the table to place his crown on his head. The weight of it felt immense as he caught a final glimpse of the brand before Mark tugged his tunic back over his head. 

“Where’s you silver?” He asked quietly, looking to change the subject. 

“Children of Summer don’t use silver. We use bronze.” Mark tucked a loose lock of hair behind his ear and tugged at his earlobe, his bronze stud glinting in the dim light of the fire. 

“Can you show me your… y’know?” He waved his hand in the air and snowflakes sprinkled around the air. 

Mark smirked at him and rolled up his sleeves before holding his arms out, palms up. “I still haven’t even taken off my boots yet and you’re asking me for magic tricks.” 

His skin started to glow as the fire in the hearth grew. Streaks of fire weaved down Mark’s forearms as his eyes glowed a dull orange. Flames danced in his palms briefly before Mark closed his hand, extinguishing them. “It’s nothing special, I can’t create blizzards like you can.” 

“Of course it’s special!” He insisted, “how many other people can do that?” 

Mark shrugged and went back to taking off his boots, “I need to let my hair down too, it’s killing my head.” 

“Oh, I’ll do it,” he positioned himself behind Mark’s chair and carefully started undoing the intricate braid. 

Mark groaned in relief as he scratched his fingertips along his sore scalp. An idea popped into his head and he carefully reached out to his magic and willed it to his fingertips. 

Mark made a noise in surprise at the cool sensation on his scalp and leaned his head back into it. “That feels incredible.” 

“It’s not too cold is it?” He asked nervously, his blue fingers continuing to carefully thread through Mark’s hair. 

“I can’t really get cold, you’re ok,” Mark almost purred as he relaxed into his chair. 

Ethan caught their reflection in the mirror and flushed at how intimate they looked. The Prince of Nordicia, playing with his knight’s hair in the middle of the night. Mother would have a fit if she knew. Another thing that quickly caught his eye was his own reflection. His hair was completely white at this point and his eyes were glowing an icy blue, similar to Winter’s. 

“Mark, is what we’re doing appropriate?” 

Mark sat up abruptly in his chair, Ethan’s finger’s falling from his hair as he turned to look at him, “if you aren’t comfortable with this, we won’t do it again.” 

“No, no,” he shook his head, “I don’t mind, I guess we’ve never really spent time together like this before. It’s nice.” 

His knight looked him over briefly before he stood from his chair, “we should get to bed. I’m sure Winter will be back nice and early to start your training.” 

Ethan baulked at Mark’s sudden change in demeanor and shuffled back over to the bed, shifting over until he was against the wall. 

“Goodnight, Ethan.” Mark extinguished the fire in the hearth and Ethan heard footsteps retreating towards the door. 

“Where are you going? I thought we were going to bed?” 

Mark made a choked off noise and a tiny ember appeared in his hand. “I am going to bed?”

“But the bed’s over here.” 

Mark’s eyes widened, “I don’t think-” 

“You’re not sleeping outside if that’s what you were planning on doing. There’s plenty of room for the two of us here.” 

“Your Highness, I couldn’t.” 

He sighed, “Mark please. I don’t want to be alone.” 

The fire extinguished and Mark’s footsteps crept towards the bed before the mattress dipped. Mark carefully climbed in next to him and turned to face him, “happy now?” 

He removed his crown from his head and placed it on his chest, keeping both hands on it, “I am. I was afraid I would have to order you.” 

Mark snorted, “of course, Your Highness. Go to sleep.” 

\--

Ethan fell to the ground with a thud, Winter standing over him with a disappointed look on her face. “You must do better.” 

He pushed himself up with a grunt and brushed the dirt from his hands, “I’m trying.” 

“Try harder.” 

He sighed and closed his eyes, imaging the ice emerging from the ground in a defensive formation. The twin silver chain bracelets that Winter had forged vibrated on his wrists as he scrunched his face up in concentration. 

“Now Son of Summer!” 

He could sense Mark’s presence next to his ice wall and exhaled deeply as Mark tried to melt it with his flames. 

“Good! Keep focused and don’t let him past.” 

He clenched his jaw as Mark slowly started to melt through his ice. He tried to reinforce the wall, but growled when Mark easily passed through it. 

_His feet._

Ethan’s eyes opened in surprise at the voice. He didn’t think he would hear anymore. But he zoned in on Mark’s feet, the way that he had his heels dug firmly into the ground as he pushed forward.

Wind swirled around him as he willed the ground beneath Mark’s feet to freeze. Soon enough, a small layer of ice had formed under his feet and when Mark went to take a step forward to gain more leverage he slipped, looking over at him with wide eyes as he fell to his knees. 

_Freeze his arms and legs._

With a wave of his hand the ice started to climb up Mark’s arms and legs as his knight bared his teeth in frustration. Orange eyes met his and he saw the flames licking down Mark’s arms, trying to meet his ice head on. 

Ethan focused his attention on Mark’s lower-half, encasing him in a thick layer of ice while Mark tried to free his arms. 

“Excellent work, Your Highness!” Winter shouted, energizing him further. “Now free the Son of Summer and start again.” 

Ethan grimaced, he had figured out how to create and command the cold and ice, but destroying it was another story. He crouched down next to Mark who gave him a proud smile, “good job, Ethan.” 

He beamed under Mark’s praise and placed his hands on the ice encasing Mark’s legs. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath, feeling around for the ice’s weak points. With a loud crack, the ice crumbled around Mark and he was able to free himself. 

“Much faster than last time!” Winter praised. “You’re coming along quickly, my Son.” 

Ethan sat back on his haunches and wiped at the sweat on his forehead. “Thank you, Winter. Is it time for a break yet?” 

Both Winter and Mark laughed and he groaned, knowing that meant there was no break in his immediate future. 

“Have you ever held a sword before?” Winter asked, twirling a dagger made of ice between her fingers. 

Ethan shook his head, “a few times. But I’ve never swung one if that’s what you’re asking. Father never let me. Andrew would be the one going to war, so there was no point in training me.” 

“The Queen made sure that Ethan was a highly skilled archer and he’s quite proficient with throwing daggers.” Mark interjected, “but I’ve never seen him ever hold a sword or shield.” 

“An archer? Interesting. Show me.” 

Before he could stand up to fetch his bow, Mark had already jogged over to the cottage and retrieved it along with his quiver. He reached out and blushed as his fingers grazed Mark’s. 

“T-thank you, Mark,” he stuttered, quickly clasping his quiver into place before taking the bow from his knight. 

Mark gave him a small smile and squeezed his shoulder, “show Winter what you’re made of.” 

Ethan took a deep breath and cracked his knuckles and his neck before he rolled his shoulders back and nocked an arrow, ready for Winter’s instructions. 

“Hit the targets as they appear.” 

He gave her a confused look, “what targets?” 

Instead of answering him, Winter snapped her fingers and pillars of ice burst from the still frozen pond. 

The first three targets were close-ranged and easy. The second his arrow connected with the pillar, they bursted into snow. He immediately sought out Mark’s reaction and beamed at the proud smile and thumbs up he received. More appeared in different parts of the clearing and Ethan was starting to worry that he would run out of arrows before Winter was done with him. One after the other, he diligently hit each target that Winter created, his quiver almost empty. 

Just as he thought that they were almost done, Winter clapped her hands. “Now close your eyes and sense the targets.” 

“Can I collect my arrows first?” 

“No.” 

Ethan huffed in agitation, but dutifully closed his eyes. The cold was moving under the ground and he tried to pinpoint the exact spot that the target would appear. A large coldspot formed behind him and he spun around, nocking an arrow and firing at the target. As soon as he hit that target another appeared and another and another. 

“Don’t fall behind,” Winter warned. 

“But I’m almost out of arrows!” He protested, toying with the feather fletchings on his last arrow. He could tell from the wear and thinner shaft that it was one of his Mother’s.

“Make your own.” 

It took him a second to realize what she meant. Once he did he quickly shot another target and reached his hand into the air, willing the snow to conform to his needs. Snow and ice swirled around his wrist as the form took shape. His fingers wrapped around the cold shaft of an ice arrow and nocked it to the sound of Mark’s shouts of encouragement. 

The target burst into a cloud of snow. He repeated the action, plucking out ice arrows and rapidly catching up on hitting all the targets Winter created for him. After the last target was hit he fell to his knees, panting as he tried to catch his breath. 

There were claps and cheers as he opened his eyes, a victorious grin on his face. He looked over to where Mark and Winter were and was surprised to see Summer standing amongst them with two strangers. 

One was a short, young girl with bright blond hair, pale skin and glowing green eyes. The other a tall middle aged man, salt and pepper just starting at his temples, with a dark complexion and red eyes. 

“Impressive work for a Son of Winter,” the man praised, his deep voice sending a shiver down Ethan’s spine. 

“Thank you. I presume you’re Autumn?” He guessed, pushing himself to his feet. 

“You would be correct. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.” Autumn bowed his head, “we have heard whispers of a new Son of Winter for centuries now, but being able to meet one in the flesh is a true pleasure.” 

Ethan nodded his head, “I’m sorry to hear about what the Viken King did to your Son. I hope I’ll be able to avenge his death for you.” 

Autumn’s mouth twitched, “I thank you for your thoughts. But I am hoping that I will be able to avenge his death myself, alongside you and your Son of Summer. You’re an odd pair. I find it interesting that a Son of Summer and a Son of Winter have forged such a strong bond. Usually Children of Summer detest anyone who isn’t a Child of Spring.” 

“Mark has been my knight ever since I became of age,” he said sharply, feeling the need to defend himself, “we have been nothing but loyal to one another.” 

Autumn gave him one last look over before he bowed his head in concession. “A true testament to your close bond.” 

“You always have to ruin things, don’t you, Autumn,” the young girl sighed, rolling her eyes. “I’m sorry about him, Your Highness. He’s always involving himself in other peoples’ affairs.” 

She bounced in front of Autumn and shoved him back playfully before she spun around and stuck her hand out, “it’s nice to meet you, I’m Spring.” 

Ethan couldn’t help but smile at her contagious energy as he took her hand, “I’m Prince Ethan.” 

“Oh trust me,” Spring winked at him, “we’re all well aware of who you are.” 

“Winter does manage to have the most exciting Children doesn’t she?” Autumn mused, the leaves on the trees around him changing colour. “First in line to the Nordician throne is worth bragging over.” 

Ethan looked at him sharply, his grip on his bow turning his knuckles white. “I’m _second_ in line to the throne.” 

“Whoops,” Autumn mused, “I suppose it is unfortunate that our first meeting isn’t under better circumstances.” 

Ethan’s body moved on its own, nocking an ice arrow and pointing it at Autumn as snow and ice billowed around him. “I command you to explain yourself!” 

Summer shoved Autumn out of the way and looked at him with sad eyes, “what Autumn is trying to say, Your Highness is that we have received word from the village that the King is dead.” 

Summer’s words bounced around in his skull as he tried to realize the magnitude of what she said.

_Father was dead._

His arms fell limp at his side, his bow slipped from his fingers. The temperature dropped so quickly that even he noticed it, despite the warm presence of Spring and Summer. The sounds of his heartbeat thumped loudly in his ears as he stared straight ahead, his mouth pressed into a thin line as his eyes started to burn. 

There was a gentle hand on his back and he let Mark guide him away from everyone to the far corner of the clearing, where the foliage was thicker and could give them some privacy. 

His jaw worked as he tried to figure out the storm that was happening in his brain. Of course he wanted to mourn his Father, but after learning all of the things that he had done, he was conflicted over whether or not it was appropriate. 

Mark’s concerned face appeared in his line of vision and he snapped his fingers in front of him, “Ethan? Are you ok?” 

It snapped him out of whatever trance he had been in and ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t know. Father was murdered and I don’t know whether or not to mourn him.” 

Mark delicately grasped his hand, his fingers glowing as he rubbed the frost building on his hands away with his thumb, “why wouldn’t you mourn him?” 

“Because!” He hissed, pointedly ignoring the flurries gusting around them, “he has hid so much from me. And after what he did to you, and the other knights, I don’t know if he deserves my tears.” 

“Hey,” Mark grasped the back of his neck with his other hand, “of course it is your decision, but your Father did care about you. Whenever I would report to him he would always ask about how you were before anything else.” 

“You heard what Winter said,” he choked out, his voice thick, “he was slowly killing me. He probably thought he struck gold when he found out you were a Son of Summer so you could put me down if I ever lost control. He’d have you melt me like a fucking ice cube.” 

Mark made a wounded noise in the back of his throat and gripped the back of his neck tighter, “you know I would never!” 

“Not even if Father ordered you?” 

Mark grasped his wrist and placed his hand over his heart, right over his brand. “I think you know that I would defy the King without hesitation if it meant protecting you. I don’t take this responsibility to defend you with my life lightly. However many times you need to hear me say this for you to believe it, I’ll do it.” 

Ethan’s tears froze to his cheeks almost as soon as they started to fall and once they started he knew they weren’t going to stop until he released all of the pent up emotions that he had been trying to bury over the past few days. The death of his Father was the last thing he needed to bring him over the edge. He was so tired. 

“I’m just so tired,” he mumbled, wiping his nose with the collar of his tunic, “I want things to go back the way they were, but Father’s dead and there’s a maniac that wants to kill me. _Fuck!”_

His sadness gave way to anger and he scowled, grabbing an ice dagger out of the air and hurling it at a tree trunk. The dagger embedded itself into the trunk and he took in a deep breath, determined to not let his anger consume him like before. 

“I’m ok,” he said to reassure not only Mark, but himself. 

“Do you want me to get more silver?” Mark asked cautiously. 

“No,” he shook his head, “I need to learn how to control myself. No more tiptoeing. I’m the Prince of Nordicia and I need to start acting like one. I need to act like a Nestor.” 

“It’s ok if you need more time, Ethan. No one will judge you for taking things slowly. It’s hardly been 3 days since you and your family were attacked. You just found out your Father died. Healing takes time.” 

“I need to do this, Mark,” he insisted, looking his knight in the eyes, “for my family, for Nordicia, for myself. I need to protect my Kingdom and show Father that he was wrong about what I would become.” 

Mark gave him a small grin before he bowed his head, “and I will be right at your side as you do.” 

“I know.” 

“Are you ready to go back? They might have more news that you don’t want to hear.” 

Ethan nodded and let out a misty breath. “Think I can freeze Autumn solid to keep him quiet?” 

Mark barked out an unexpected laugh and shook his head, “you could try. I’m sure no one would stop you.” 

They returned to the group and Ethan had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. Autumn had been entangled in a mess of vines, a large one wrapped around his mouth. 

“Oh Your Highness, you’re back!” Spring skipped over to him and pointed her thumb over her shoulder at Autumn. “We’re sorry about Autumn. I’ve got him under control.” 

“It’s fine, thank you.” 

“Your Highness, I regret to inform you that we have more bad news. We have received word that the Viken King will be executing a member of the Royal Family tomorrow morning. Which Royal it is, we don’t know. But there has been a platform erected in the castle courtyard.” 

“Thank you for letting me know, Summer.” He stepped forward and clapped his hands together, “I suppose we need a plan?” 

\--

Snowflakes twirled around his fingers as he stared up at the roof of the cottage. Mark was still outside finalizing the plan with the Seasons. Given that he had no experience in battle strategizing and Mark’s whole life had centered around it, he had excused himself. Instead he took Winter’s advice to try and meditate and ready himself. 

Tomorrow was the day he would avenge his family and take his Kingdom back. Ethan was terrified. He had never been the one meant for battle. He had assumed he would be married off to a foreign Kingdom to strengthen diplomatic ties. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought he would be the one saving the Kingdom from an evil King. 

“I know you’re still awake. I can hear you thinking from outside. Why are you sitting in the dark?” The cabin door creaked open as Mark slid inside. Without looking away from the ceiling, he waved his hand in Mark’s direction and sent a tiny gust of snow to swirl around his head. 

“Hey!” Mark whined, swatting at the snow. “You didn’t answer my question _and you’re attacking me?”_

“Fire’s your specialty, not mine.” 

He heard Mark’s exasperated sigh and his finger’s snapped, lighting the hearth. 

“Is everything all figured out for tomorrow?” 

Mark collapsed into a chair and crossed his arms over his chest, “we’re about as ready as we’ll ever be for tomorrow. I’m just sorry you didn’t get more time to train.” 

He waved his hand around, snow weaving its way around his fingers, “I think I’ll be ok. I have to be.” 

“You’ve got a good grasp on it,” Mark admired, “you should be proud of yourself with how far you’ve come.” 

“You mean that?” 

Mark tugged off his tunic and ran his hands through his hair, “when have I ever lied to you?” 

He hummed in acknowledgement and zoned in on Mark’s arms as he stretched before his eyes drifted across Mark’s chest to his brand. It was still an unsettling sight but he was slowly getting used to it. “Are you coming to bed? We’re getting up before dawn.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming, move over.” 

Ethan shifted over to the wall as Mark slid into bed. He automatically reached out and traced the brand with his fingers. Mark was well used to it by now and hummed as he felt the cold touch of his fingers. He lightly traced the looping script of his cypher before he stroked the ridges of the crown. 

He didn’t know what compelled him to keep going, but his fingers danced around Mark’s chest and up to his arms, tracing the paths of his veins. His eyes flickered up to Mark’s as his skin took on a dull glow. Mark’s eyes were a faint orange as he stared at Ethan with partially closed eyes. His hands shook slightly as his fingers started to turn blue. He brought his hand back to Mark’s chest as he breathed out small puffs of mist. 

“What’re you doing, Ethan?” Mark murmured.

“I don’t know.” A shiver went down his spine at how husky Mark’s voice was. 

_Yes you do._

Ethan ignored voices in his head as he leaned in and brushed his nose against Mark’s. His knight let out a shaky breath and Ethan’s breath hitched as Mark brought his hand up and rested it on his hip. “Mark.” 

“ _Gods, Ethan_ ,” Mark gasped before closing the distance between them. 

He sighed into Mark’s mouth and pulled himself closer until they were flush together. Mark gripped at his waist and Ethan heard the fire crackle loudly behind them. 

They broke apart for a second before Mark shifted and was towering over him, his eyes orange and chest panting as he caged Ethan in with his arms. He stared up at Mark in wonder, his hair was haloed around his head as Ethan reached up to tuck it behind his ear. 

“Can we do that again?” He asked quietly. 

“Is that a request or an order?” Mark hummed, bringing their foreheads together.

“It’s whatever you want it to be. But _please_ kiss me again.” 

“Of course, _Your Highness._ ” 

Ethan sucked in a stuttering breath through his nose as Mark kissed him again. He trailed his hands up Mark’s arms and over his shoulder blades before he tangled his fingers in the sweaty hair at the base of his knight’s neck. 

Mark kissed him so tenderly that Ethan wanted to cry. It was so soft and gentle he felt lightheaded. Despite the looming battle that was rapidly approaching them both, there was nothing urgent about it. As far as he was concerned, it was just the two of them, the rest of the world be damned. 

Ethan had to break away to catch his breath and stared up in awe at Mark. His knight sat up and raked the hair out of his face as he panted. In the dim light from the fire, he could see water dripping down Mark’s chest. He didn’t know whether it was sweat or melting frost, but regardless, Ethan couldn’t help himself as he sat up and crawled the short distance to where Mark had repositioned. 

“Look at you,” he breathed in wonder. “You’re - you’re incredible. And you’re mine.” 

He placed his hand over Mark’s brand and the skin hissed as steam poured out from the gaps in his fingers; hot meeting cold. 

Flames suddenly shot down Mark’s arms as he groaned loudly. Ethan barely had time to think before Mark had reached out and tugged him into his lap. _“Say that again.”_

“You’re my knight, oath-bound to me, Prince Ethan, Son of Winter, heir to the throne of the Kingdom of Nordicia until the day you die. Sir Mark Fischbach by order of the Crown, you shall be my Son of Summer until the end of your days.” 

Mark was incredibly tense underneath him as he looked at Ethan with heat in his eyes. The veins in his neck bulged as his arms shook with restraint. “It is my absolute pleasure to be your protector, Your Highness. Anything you ask of me, I shall do without hesitation.” 

Ethan bit his lip, “anything?” 

“Yes.” 

Snow swirled around his head like a crown as he wet his lips with the tip of his tongue. “I order you to do whatever you’re thinking of doing to me right now.”

Mark had always excelled at listening to orders. 

\-- 

Ethan brushed his hands down the front of his coat as he stared at himself in the mirror. It felt weird to look at this new version himself in his formal robes. The dark Nordician blue of his coat made his new pale skin look impossibly colder. The leather gloves now protested and cracked against the permanent cold skin of his hands. 

His crown carried a new weight to it as he carefully picked it up. The large frontal sapphire glinted in the light as he watched his reflection place it on his head. It looked foreign on his head of white hair, but he found that he liked how it reflected his new relationship with the snow and ice. His daggers were next. Ethan twirled them around his fingers before he fastened the sheaths to his belt. There was no need for a quiver anymore as he bypassed it to grasp his cloak. 

“Need help with that?” 

Ethan hadn’t heard Mark come in, he had been too busy in his own head. He caught sight of his knight back in his formal dress in the mirror and cocked his head to the side. “Can you do it?” 

Mark flapped his gloved hand, “I’ve watched it be done enough times to be able to figure it out.” 

“So no, you don’t know how to do it.” He smiled cheekily before tossing Mark his brooch. 

Mark snatched it out of the air and pointed a finger at him. “Do you want your cloak or no?” 

He giggled as he draped his cloak around his shoulders, ”yes, please.” 

Mark gave him a fond smile and stepped into his space. He grasped both sides of the cloak and fiddled with the fabric before carefully pinning it into place. “It’s not as elegantly placed as you’re used to. But I think it’s acceptable.” 

“I’m sure it’s perfect.” 

They looked at each other for a brief moment before Mark stepped forward and placed his hands on his hips. “Are you ready?” 

Ethan bit his lip and nodded, bringing his hands up to grip Mark’s biceps. “Not really. But we don’t have a choice.” 

Mark pressed his mouth together in a tight line and brought his gloved hand up to caress his jaw. “Whatever happens today, I will be by your side the entire time. You won’t be alone.” 

“I know.” 

He gently tilted his head up to give Mark a quick kiss before resting their foreheads together. “I guess it’s time to leave.” 

“After you, Your Highness.” 

Ethan led them out of the cottage into the barely there light of dawn. The Seasons had already embarked, trying to create as much havoc as they could before he and Mark arrived. 

Mark’s mare was already tacked up and ready to go. She pawed at the ground as he approached and he gave her a quick pat before Mark came over to lift him up into the saddle. He was handed his bow before Mark mounted behind him. The nervous energy in his chest calmed slightly as Mark wrapped an arm around his middle, clicked his tongue to start them off with a brisk walk. 

They navigated through the forest in silence, the green foliage giving way to cold wind and coniferous trees. As they got closer to the entrance of the forest, a light snow started. Ethan could feel the storm that Winter was building. He was drawn to it and held his arms out, encouraging the storm to move faster. The wind howled as he did so and the snow started coming down harder as the entrance to the forest became visible. 

“Alright, Eth, hood up.” Mark flipped his hood up over his head for him, adjusting it over his crown as he kicked at his shire’s sides, bringing them up to a trot. As they approached the village both of them whistled at the sight of Winter’s storm. It was concentrated right over the castle, snow and hail beating down mercilessly. 

“I know neither of us can feel the cold, but just looking at that makes me want to turn around and go back to the cottage,” Mark joked. 

“I love it,” he said in awe. “Look at that. I want to be able to do that.” 

“I’m sure you will eventually. It’ll just take time.” 

Once they entered the village, the snowflakes were bigger and fluffier. Ethan could feel how heavy the wet snow was on the ground. It was a complete shift from the powder snow in the forest. Winter was really going all out. His bracelets hummed the closer they got to the castle. Out of habit, he reached into his sleeve and toyed with the silver. 

“Prince Ethan? Have you returned to save us?” 

The sides of his hood had obscured most of his vision as they made their way through the merchant district. At the sound of his name, he turned his head, his hood falling off as he saw the small group of concerned villagers. 

Their eyes widened as they caught sight of his new appearance and he grimaced at the few fingers he received. 

He reached back and gave Mark’s thighs a squeeze, “can we stop?” 

Mark obliged and brought the mare to a halt. 

People started to crowd around them and he was at a loss of what to say. He was never meant to be a leader. 

“Um, hello,” he cleared his throat and straightened his posture. “I’m sure you’re all confused and scared. If I’m being honest, I am as well. But I want you to know that we will reclaim the Kingdom from the Viken King.” 

“Is it true that you are a Son of Winter?” Someone shouted. 

“Yes, I am.” 

There was a hushed murmur amongst the crowd and he could tell by the way Mark tensed that they might need to make a quick exit. He didn’t want to, but he called out to his magic in case he needed to take drastic action. 

“Please, Your Highness, avenge the King and show the Viken’s why Nordicia isn’t meant to be trifled with!” 

There were cheers and shouts as he looked around at the crowd with wide eyes. “I will do my best. To avenge both my Father and to restore the Kingdom.” 

“We need to keep moving,” Mark mumbled into his ear. 

He took in a deep breath and waved to the crowd as Mark worked them up to a trot. “I hope that wasn’t a mistake.” 

“I guess we’ll find out.” 

The cobblestone paths of the village gave way to gravel and soon, Mark was leading them off the path entirely and along the tree line, the long hanging branches of the giant pines giving them the cover and protection from Winter’s blizzard that they needed. The sun was desperately trying to peek out from along the horizon, but Ethan knew Winter wouldn’t let that happen. They had almost arrived at the charred remains of the stable as they both gawked at the large jagged rocks that had emerged around the circumference of the castle. 

“How did he do that, Mark?” 

“That’s the power of Children of Autumn. They can control the earth.” 

They dismounted not too far away from the stable and he pulled his hood back up as they carefully made their way towards the door to the catacombs. A large rock had been placed in front of the remains of the wooden door that Mark had kicked down. 

“Where’s Autumn?” Ethan grumbled, “he was supposed to meet us here.” 

“I’m right behind you, Son of Winter.” 

Ethan spun around with a squeak and glared at the smug look on Autumn’s face. “I really hate you.” 

“That’s not very befitting language for a Royal.” 

“Just get rid of the rock, Autumn,” Mark warned, his eyes flashing. 

“Now, now, no need to sick the muscle on me,” Autumn tutted, placing his hands on the rock. “It’s quite a shame that this man is deranged, because this took an immense amount of skill.” 

The rock slowly sank back into the earth and Autumn clapped his hands together, “after you.” 

All three of them crept into the catacombs together. With a wave of his hand, Mark lit all of the torches, revealing a great deal of damage to the Nestor tombs. 

It made Ethan feel hollow inside. While he wasn’t as connected to these people as his Mother was, they were still members of his family and to see their tombs desecrated made him angry. 

They came to a fork in the catacombs and Autumn bowed, “this is where we part. Take care and stay sharp.” 

Autumn disappeared into the darkness, and Mark guided him further into the tunnels with a hand on his back. 

“Mark, it’s too quiet right? I’m not imagining it?” 

He heard Mark sigh behind him, “no you’re right. I don’t like it.” 

Ethan chewed at his lip as they carried down the tunnel. The sound of gravel crunching had them both freezing. He felt something wrap around his ankle and screeched, trying to tug his leg free, but finding it caught on something. 

Mark unsheathed his sword and hacked at whatever was holding him. “It’s the roots!” 

Once he had freed himself, he spun around, ice swirling around his wrists, “the what?” 

Mark crouched down and poked at a chunk of vine, “that would be the Child of Spring power he possesses. Spring showers cause Summer flowers.” 

They heard more gravel move and Mark frowned, lobbing a small fireball down the way they had come. Both of them gasped as they saw roots creeping out of the walls and from the ground, reaching out towards them. 

Mark thrust out his arms, casting a wall of fire to slow down the vines. “Run.” 

Ethan grasped at Mark’s hand as his knight navitaged them through the catacombs with ease. They stopped in front of a large, empty tomb without a marker and Mark reached out to grasp the torch holder beside it. His eyes widened as the wall started to move, revealing a secret passage. “Why do you know about these and I don’t?” 

Mark winked at him, “Knight’s secret. This one should take us to the King’s chambers.” 

Ethan cautiously entered the dark staircase and flinched when the castle shook above them. “I guess the Viken know we’re here.” 

Mark’s hand was on his back, urging him forward, “keep moving. We aren’t safe down here.” 

Together, they climbed the winding staircase as fast as they could. Eventually, arriving at the top. Ethan placed his hand on the wooden door, trying to push it open. 

Mark rested his hand on his shoulder, “listen first.” 

He placed his ear on the smooth wood and strained trying to hear any noise. “I don’t hear anything. Where are we?” 

“Your parents chamber door is straight across from this passage. Let me open the door in case it’s guarded.” 

Ethan let Mark take the lead and held his breath at the loud squeal that came from the door. 

“Well, Spring has definitely been here,” Mark muttered, pushing the passage door open. 

He peaked out from behind Mark and grimaced at the sight. Blood has been splattered up the walls, undoubtedly coming from the two human-shaped lumps that had been consumed by a cocoon of tightly coiled vines. 

“Are you sure it was Spring?” Ethan asked cautiously, looking down the otherwise empty corridor. 

“I know she looks like a child, but she’s incredibly dangerous and this kind of attack is her specialty,” Mark told him as he kicked at the discarded lances and shields with the Viken coat of arms. “Don’t be shocked if we find something more gruesome than this.” 

He nodded his head and froze at the soft sounds of crying coming from his parent’s chamber. He slowly reached to grab his daggers as Mark unsheathed his sword. His knight held up three fingers and slowly counted down until he kicked the door open with his boot. 

Vines immediately slithered up his body the second they charged in, wrapping their way up his body and around his chest and throat, making stars appear in the corners of his vision. 

“Spring!” Mark wheezed, trying to burn the vines that were climbing up his body. “Spring it’s us!” 

“Oh! Hi Mark!” 

Just as fast as they had been ensnared, the vines fell off in a heap. Leaving both Ethan and Mark gasping for breath as they stumbled further into the chamber. 

“ _Ethan? Is that you?”_

Ethan’s head snapped up at the sound of his Mother’s voice and sucked in a breath when he saw her curled in the corner with Spring at her side. “Mother!” 

He took in her battered appearance and tears prick in the corner of his eyes at the sight. She looked so frail and the bruising on her face aged her by nearly a decade. “Mother, thank Gods you’re safe!” 

His Mother weakly pulled herself up with Spring’s assistance and hobbled towards him. “Oh my son, you’re alive! We thought you were dead!” 

He removed his bow from over his shoulder and tossed it to the ground, wrappingd his arms around her and held her carefully, in case she was more injured than he thought. “Are you ok?” 

She nodded her head and pulled back, looking at him carefully before pulling his hood off. “What happened to you? You’re freezing!” She croaked. “You removed your cuffs didn’t you?” 

He froze in her arms, “did you know about this as well? Was it humorous for you, jokingly calling me your Son of Winter when you knew it was the truth?” 

She shook her head and gripped at his biceps, “your Father said they would protect you.” 

Hail started to beat against the window harshly, causing his Mother to flinch and look at him with fear in her eyes, “Ethan, your eyes!” 

Mist puffed out of his nostrils as he took in deep breaths, trying to stay calm. But the knowledge that both of his parents had done to him had stirred an anger deep inside him that he couldn’t full control yet. “Are you scared of me, Mother?” He whispered harshly, “is that why you and Father attempted to kill me with those cuffs?” 

She shook her head miserably, “that was never my intention. I wanted what was best for you. You seemed so happy once you started wearing them.”

Ethan’s lip trembled, “those cuffs almost killed me, Mother. If Mark hadn’t acted when he did, I would be dead like Father.” 

_“Your Father’s dead?”_ She gasped, her bruised hand flying up to her mouth, “ _he can’t be!”_

“I’m afraid he is, Your Highness,” Spring said carefully, “we were informed that the night of the attack a few villagers witnessed Viken soldier’s sending out a large funeral pyre in port. It was believed to be the King’s body. No one has heard anything since.” 

His Mother suddenly collapsed into his chest. He staggered back at her sudden deadweight, both Mark and Spring reaching out to steady them. “Is your brother alive?” She croaked, wiping at her eyes. 

“I haven’t heard a thing about Andrew,” he told her honestly. “All we knew was that a member of the Royal Family was going to be executed at dawn by the Viken King.” 

“My poor family,” she whimpered. “Everything had been perfect and now it’s ruined. Your Father is dead. Andrew is missing.” Her sad eyes flickered over him, “look at yourself, Ethan. You look like a ghost of yourself.” 

“But I’m not a ghost,” he stated, looking her in the eyes. “I’m still your son. But I’m also a Son of Winter. My entire life, I’ve felt like I didn’t belong. But now I’m at peace. This is who I was meant to be, Mother.” 

“We were just trying to protect you,” Mother mumbled, her voice hoarse. “Your Father was so scared.” 

“That doesn’t justify the slow death he was dragging me towards. I’ve learned more about Father in the last few days than I have my entire life, and I don’t think I can forgive him for what he’s done.” 

“I’m so sorry, Ethan,” she sobbed, her arms shaking as they wrapped around his shoulders. “You must know that you’re my joy. My sweet boy.” 

“Thank you for apologizing, Mother,” he said quietly. “It’s time for you to leave. Spring will take you out through the catacombs and into the forest where it’s safe.” 

The castle shook violently and he felt a sharp pain behind his collarbone as the wind howled. Hail beat down so aggressively that the windows started to crack. 

Winter was in trouble. 

“What about you?” Mother asked, “are you staying here?” 

He nodded solemnly, “I have to. I have to save Nordicia.” 

There was an explosion somewhere in the castle and Ethan almost screamed at how loudly Winter was calling out to him. Desperate for help. 

“We can’t spare any more time, Your Highness,” Mark told her, “we need to get you out of here, immediately.” 

Spring carefully came over and took his Mother’s weight, helping her hobble to the door. As they passed Mark and he bowed his head, Mother reached out and grasped his wrist. “Thank you, Sir Fischbach, for keeping my son safe.” 

Mark had been quiet, standing at the typical Guard post by the door almost the entire time. His knight gave his Mother a polite smile, “of course, Your Highness. It’s my duty to protect the Prince.” 

The pain in his chest was almost unbearable as Spring led his Mother out into the passage. As soon as they were out of sight, he doubled over and clutched at his brooch, finding it frozen solid. 

“Ethan!” 

Mark ran over and caught him before he completely collapsed and tried to keep him up right. “What’s wrong?” 

“Winter,” he gasped, “she needs help!” 

He tried to stumble out of Mark’s grasp, whining when Mark wouldn’t let him go. “I have to help her!” 

“You can barely stand, how are you going to help her like this?” Mark exclaimed, trying to keep him still. 

_Help me._

Ethan continued to struggle in Mark’s arms until he heard an annoyed groan. He was released and raced out of the room, scooping up his bow with Mark on his heels as he sought Winter out. She was in the courtyard and he flew down the grand staircase. Any Viken they encountered didn’t even have time to shout before they were either frozen to death or incinerated. He was drawing on the power of the storm as they thundered through the halls of the castle. 

Nordician blue had been replaced with Viken green and the anger in him flared up again. This time, he wasn’t looking to calm himself down as Mark charged ahead of him to hack at a group of Vikens. 

“Take the side entrance to the courtyard,” Mark instructed, plunging his sword into a Viken. “It’s less likely to be as heavily guarded.” 

They diverted their course and Mark had to take the lead as they sprinted down the servant corridors. They skidded to a stop at a door that was frozen solid and Ethan quickly placed his hands on it. He sucked in a breath before he shoved at it. The ice crumbled under his hands and the door scraped open. 

A gust of icy wind blew past them as he finally got the door fully open and gasped. The entire courtyard was covered in a thick layer of ice and snow. There was no indication that Winter’s storm was ending any time soon as he heard the distant sounds of battle over the roar of the wind. 

He trudged into the heavy snow and tried to sense where Winter was in the chaos. Mark’s hand was on his shoulder as they looked for any sign of her. Ethan could tell that Winter had been here recently. The courtyard was strewn with frozen bodies and limbs, rapidly being covered by a heavy blanket of snow. 

“Over there!” Mark squeezed his shoulder as the ground shook. A menacing laugh echoed around them as they caught sight of a large rock shooting out of the earth. Autumn’s angry shouts quickly echoed after, followed by another quake. 

“Stay low,” Mark instructed, keeping a hand on his shoulder as they carefully headed towards a dim light not too far away. 

The light got brighter and Ethan squinted, vaguely making out the form of a woman with her arms spread out wide. “Summer?” 

_“Your Highness? Come quickly!”_

Even with both his efforts and Mark’s to try and get rid of the snow so they could move faster, the closer they got to Summer, the more difficult it became. Despite the fact that Summer should’ve easily melted the snow around her, she seemed powerless as she grasped his hand and tugged him towards a lump in the snow. 

He gasped as he realized the lump was Winter and fell to his knees, brushing the snow off of her limp body. As soon as he made contact with her blue skin he blinked and found himself on top of the mountain once again. 

Ethan spun around and spotted Winter laying in the snow a few feet away. He thrust his arms out and the snow blew away, making a clear path to the dying Season. “Winter!” 

He collapsed next to her and started to panic when he saw no obvious signs of life. The blue of her skin had started seeping into his as it trailed up past his wrist. 

_I am beyond saving. It is your time, my Son._

He frantically looked around, trying to find where Winter’s voice was coming from as her body remained still. “Where are you, Winter?” 

_Do not worry about me, Child. I have already found peace. You are the one that must embrace your destiny._

“What do you mean?” 

_This day was foretold long before you were born. You are the first Child of Winter in generations. I held on as long as I could. But my body is too frail and frozen. I couldn’t be more proud to have you as my heir._

Ethan could feel ice crystals forming in his blood as Winter’s skin started to become more translucent. _“Your heir?”_

_Seasons come and go. Time passes and we are reborn. I was envious of the other Seasons, for they have never had to wait as long as I. It has been a long wait for this day, but well worth it. It is your time, Prince Ethan Nestor. I have done all I can to prepare you. The torch has been passed._

He froze in horror as Winter’s body turned to ice. It cracked loudly and crumbled into a pile. Snow swirled angrily around him as he felt the ice reach his heart. He scrambled at his chest, gasping for breath as his heart was encased in ice, freezing solid. 

_You are Winter now._

Ethan sucked in a breath as power flooded through his body. It was a rush like none other he had experienced before. He could feel the power of his storm and felt the corners of his lip twitch up at the havoc it was causing. He raised his arms, about to command the storm to freeze them all. 

_“Ethan?”_

Winter blinked and found himself standing in a frozen courtyard in the middle of his storm with Summer and one of her Sons. He looked at them all curiously, wondering why that name had called him here. It felt familiar. 

“Ethan?” The Son of Summer approached him slowly and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you ok? What happened to Winter?” 

Summer looked him over carefully, her eyes widening as she recognized him. “His Highness is Winter now.” 

The Son of Summer’s head snapped over to Summer in confusion, “how is that possible?” 

“It happens to all of us eventually. Our bodies grow old and we must move on, find a younger host. Winter waited centuries for a new Child. As soon as the Prince was born, Winter had been overjoyed. She blessed him with a blizzard on his birthday, signifying his worthiness to take her place.” 

“Why am I here?” He asked cooly, “who summoned me?” 

The Son of Summer recoiled, “Ethan, are you feeling ok? You don’t look like yourself.” 

“I don’t know if Ethan’s still in there,” Summer said carefully. “Winter typically consumes their host’s soul. If he’s still there, he’s battling for his life right now. But after waiting so long, Winter must be starving.” 

The repetition of the familiar name made him uncomfortable. It probed at something deep down. Something locked away in a cage that was banging to get out. He shook his head and found himself unconsciously wringing his hands around his wrist. It felt like something heavier than a simple chain should’ve been there, but he didn’t know why. 

The Son of Summer tracked his moments and his eyes widened, “Ethan!” 

He shook his head and scowled, ice forming his hands into claws. “I am Winter.” 

“No you’re not. You’re Prince Ethan of Nordicia.” The Son of Summer bravely stepped into his space and grasped his wrist, placing it over his heart. “We’ve done this before, Eth. And you beat it then, you can do it now.” 

Winter didn’t know why he was allowing this Child of Summer to enter his space and touch him. He should freeze him alive in front of Summer. But he sensed no danger from the man and let him live. For now. 

The ground shook beneath them and he glanced up at the ice dams on the castle roof. The sharp row of icicles begged him to let them fall, to cause an avalanche of snow to smother everyone in the courtyard. He shook his head and waved his hand, holding the ice in place as he returned his attention back to the Son of Summer. 

“Ethan, we’re running out of time, you need to wake up,” he begged. “The Viken King is getting closer and I don’t think Autumn can hold him back for much longer.” 

“Do you want me to kill him for you?” He asked, suddenly wanting to see the Son of Summer smile. 

“Um,” the Son of Summer seemed confused, “yes? But I need you to release Ethan.” 

There was a loud roar behind them as a large angry man materialized through the snow. _“Son of Winter I demand your head!”_

He growled, clenching his ice claws into the Son of Summer’s coat. “I have no Son.” 

The man confused him, one second he appeared as a Son of Autumn and the next a Son of Spring. It was impossible to be two Children at once and while he was intrigued, the pit of his stomach told him that the man must die. 

“Mark, you keep trying to wake up Ethan, I’ll take on the Viken,” Summer growled her skin starting to glow as she charged through the snow, lobbing fireballs at the man. 

Winter snapped his fingers, the snow blowing out of the way for her as she attacked the man. 

“Winter, please,” the Son of Summer pleaded, frantically undoing the buttons of his coat. “You have to release, Ethan. I’m sure you could work something out, but we need him right now.” 

_Mark I’m here!_

He shook his head at the voice and watched as the Son of Summer bared his chest, his skin turning a pretty pink in the harsh cold. “I don’t know what else to do. _Winter. Ethan. Please!”_

An angry brand marred his chest and he felt himself drawn to it as his claws melted away. He reached out for it and placed his hand on the letters. Winter sucked in a breath as images burst through the locked cage in his mind and assaulted his senses. 

  
  


\--

_“Happy Birthday, son,” Father said, clapping him on the back. “I’d like to introduce you to your own Royal knight. Sir Mark Fischbach.”_

_The knight stepped forward and knelt on one knee in front of him, “it’s an honour, Your Highness. I look forward to serving you.”_

_“He is the finest member of the Guard I have seen in a long time. An excellent knight for years to come.”_

_\--_

_“What are you doing, Your Highness? That’s the Queen’s wine!” His knight hissed, frantically looking around in case anyone was within earshot._

_“C’mon Mark,” he giggled, taking a large gulp. “Live a little. Have some!”_

_“But the Queen-”_

_He waved his hand, “Mother won’t find out. Do you want your own bottle? I can open one for you, watch this.”_

_He flailed around for an unopened bottle and rolled up his sleeve. It took him a few tries to position the cork correctly under the edge of his cuff before he thrust the bottle downwards. The cork popped off and he screeched as wine bubbled out over his trousers. “Oh Gods!”_

_Mark sighed, carefully taking the bottles out of his hands, setting them on top of a shelf. “Let’s get you out of the wine cellar and into bed, Your Highness.”_

_\--_

_He looked up at Mark with tears in his eyes. His knight was making him feel so loved as they moved together in the dim light of the fire. Mark reached up and tangled their hands together as he grunted, ducking his head down to kiss him. “Fuck, Ethan.”_

_The words were on the tip of his tongue as he pressed his hand firmly to Mark’s brand. The symbol of their eternal devotion to one another._

_“Mark I-”_

_\--_

“- I love you,” he finished, blinking at Mark in disbelief. _“I did it!”_

A large smile burst onto Mark’s face as he pulled him in for a hug, “you did it. You freed yourself!” 

They broke apart and he caught sight of his reflection in the clear ice that had built up on the castle wall. The healthy colour had returned to his skin and he could see parts of his natural hair peeking out at the root of his head. 

_We shall work together. Not fight. Prince Ethan and Winter._

“Yes,” he frantically shook his head, “thank you, Winter. We will.” 

Mark grasped the back of his neck to pull him in for a searing kiss. “Thank Gods. Thank you, Winter for bringing him back to me.” Mark whispered into his ear. “You won’t 

regret this.” 

Mark suddenly made a choked off gurgle and collapsed against him, clutching his chest, “ _Summer!”_

He looked over Mark’s shoulder with wide eyes as Summer was thrown into the castle wall, crumpling into a heap as her head slammed back. 

He thrust an arm out, creating a large, jagged ice wall around Summer to protect her. He quickly returned his focus to Mark, “are you ok?” 

Mark groaned and rubbed at his chest before he straightened up and unsheathed his sword. The metal blade rapidly turned a bright red as Mark’s eyes flared orange. “We kill him today.” 

Ethan nodded his head and pulled his bow over his shoulder, reaching out for an ice arrow. “On your call.” 

Mark charged at the Viken King who had Autumn tangled in a mess of vines, slowly squeezing the life out of him. The snow parted for them as they raced towards them. With a thrust of his knight’s hand, the vines caught fire, dropping Autumn into a pile of snow Ethan whisked under him. 

As Ethan finally caught a look at the Viken King he wanted to laugh. He was an old, obese man with a long, dark, straggly beard and looked like he hadn’t washed in a long time. The Viken King slowly turned to face them and bared a mouth full of missing teeth at them, “Son of Winter!” 

“I am Winter!” He shouted, nocking an ice arrow. “You killed my Father!” 

The King laughed menacingly, his eyes changing from bright red to bright green. “Your Father died a coward’s death!” 

He felt Winter’s anger in his chest and together, they urged the wind to change directions as he aimed his arrow. It flew through the air, dead set on landing between the King’s eyes until a stalagmite shot out of the ground, intercepting it. 

“You thought it would be that easy?” The King goaded, nearly foaming at the mouth. “I should’ve killed you first!” 

Ethan smirked at the King, he had allowed for Mark to get up close and rear back with his sword. Mark swiped at the King’s side and the man howled, whipping around and thrusting his hand out, vines crawling after Mark as he danced away from them with ease. 

He allowed the ice under Mark’s feet to melt so that he would have better footing and concentrated the storm on top of the Viken King. They weren’t sure where Autumn was, but Winter encouraged the snow to protect him as they had done with Summer. 

“This is what happens when invaders try to attack Nordicia,” he belted, refreezing the ground behind Mark, making it difficult for the King to attack him with his vines. He lifted his hands up, sharp ice pillars bursting from the ground around the King, trying to trap him for Mark. “The Nords don’t forget!” 

The King screamed out, whipping his arms out, stone arrowheads shooting out. “Your death will be painful.” 

He easily deflected the sharp stones away with a gust of wind at the flick of his wrist and scoffed. “You’ve caused enough pain in this Kingdom.” 

With the King so easily distracted Mark had been able to sneak up behind him once again with his arms and sword ablaze. His knight already had a victorious grim on his face as he reared back to kick the back of the King’s knee. The man crumpled with a howl, his arms swinging wildly as he tried to right himself. Mark was poised, his sword raised high, ready to strike. 

The King screamed, the ground shaking. A vine shot out of the ground, batting Mark’s sword out of his hand. Mark growled, angry in a way Ethan had never seen before as he tried to dodge around the mess of vines and stalagmites that burst from the ground. 

Ethan had been paying so much attention to Mark that he hadn’t noticed the King pull himself back up until he howled out when Mark missteped, stumbling over a hole in the earth. Vines were quick to wrap themselves around Mark’s body. The King shouted victoriously as the vines closed around Mark’s throat; his knight desperately trying to burn both the vines and the King. “Winter I was going to give you the mercy of a quick death. But you’ve proven to be such an annoyance that you shall watch your Son of Summer parish at my hand first.” 

He thrust Mark into the ground, his head cracking off the ice as Ethan and Winter felt sick to their stomach at the sound. They both screamed as Mark’s unconscious body was dangled in the air, constricted by the vines. “He will fall on his own blade,” the King declared, reaching for Mark’s sword.

As he reared the sword up, Ethan screamed, the wind howling past him as the storm tried to prevent the King from killing Mark. 

“I can withstand this storm!” The King shouted, struggling to stay upright against the strong wind and hail. 

_“We are the storm!”_ Both he and Winter shouted, raising their arms over their head. They quickly thrust their arms downward and rushed towards Mark. The ice snapping the vines holding Mark, his body dropping into the snow with a dull thud. 

The King looked up at the roof in horror as the ice dams began to shake. Icicles started to drop one by one before there was a loud crack. 

They slid in front of Mark just in time to erect a large ice wall between them and the King as they released the snow and ice on the roof down on the Viken. Ethan heard the King scream as he realized his legs were frozen to the ground, unable to escape as an avalanche rained down on him. 

He focused all his energy and magic towards holding the ice wall strong against the weight of the avalanche and felt as the King banged his fists against the ice as he was smothered alive. 

_Show no mercy,_ Winter ordered the snow. _Kill him._

Once Winter had assured him the wall would hold, he turned his attention to Mark. He pulled his dagger out and sliced through the vines. He was bleeding from somewhere from his head, but he could see Mark taking in uneven breaths. 

He carefully tapped at Mark’s cheek, sending small jolts of cold with his touches, “Mark? Wake up.” 

Mark’s eyes fluttered and his arm reached out to him blindly. Ethan was quick to grasp at it and kissed the top of his hand, “Wake up, my love.” 

Mark’s skin took on a soft glow and his eyes cracked open, revealing slivers of orange. “Eth?” 

He brushed Mark’s hair out of his face and caressed his cheek, “I’m right here.” 

Mark grimaced as he tried to sit up, “did we-?” 

“Hey, hey, it’s ok. We’re safe. Just stay down ok?” 

Mark slowly nodded his head with a grimace and lowered himself back down, “hurts.” 

“You bashed your head pretty hard. You’re bleeding, but I think you’re ok.” 

“Well I’ll be damned, you did it, Your Highness.” 

He looked up and let out a surprised laugh as Summer and Autumn stumbled towards him. “You’re alive!” 

Autumn winced, “barely, but you can’t get rid of me that easily. I would say congratulations, but I’m sure Winter did most of the work.” 

_“Watch it, Autumn,”_ Winter growled, Ethan letting him come through willingly. 

“Same ole’ Winter,” Autumn sighed. “And here I thought a fresh body would loosen you up.” 

“You almost died and you’re still a pain in the ass, Autumn,” Mark grumbled, struggling to sit up. 

Ethan was quick to help prop him up and spread his legs so Mark could lean against his chest. “It’s not worth it, Mark. He’s just an old man who likes to play with dirt.” 

Autumn looked scandalized as Summer pressed her lips together so she wouldn’t laugh. _“Your Highness!_ Maybe there’s hope for you yet.” 

“Did anyone find Andrew?” He asked, carding his fingers through Mark’s hair, careful of his injury. 

“I suspect Spring would’ve reported back from the village if she’d heard anything,” Summer sighed. “I don’t want to assume the worst, but I think we should start referring to you as _Your Majesty_ from now on.” 

Ethan blinked and felt Winter’s thrill at the potential of being King and the power they would have. “ _I can’t be King._ ” 

Summer cocked her head to the side, “why not? You’re a Prince and you’re older brother is missing.” 

“You would be an excellent King, Ethan,” Mark assured. “You _will_ be an excellent King.” 

“Are you sure?” He squeaked, trying to tamp down Winter’s enthusiasm. “I was never meant to be King.” 

“Winter will show you how to rule. You also have the Queen Mother and the Son of Summer at your side,” Autumn encouraged. “I assume you’d seek the advice of a certain Season or two as well.” 

The more the thought about it, the more he realized they were right. It was his duty to be King if no one else was available. Winter refused to let him feel any dread as the two of them smiled, “I guess we need to head to the Throne Room. If it’s still standing.” 

Autumn and Summer gave a weak cheer as they helped him pull Mark up. He and Autumn braced Mark’s weight and together they all stumbled back into the castle together. Winter allowing Summer to let the sun shine through the thick storm clouds. 

The Throne Room was mostly intact as they entered. Summer incinerated the green banners that had been draped around the room for him, revealing the rightful Nordician blue. “The throne is all yours, Your Majesty.” 

He looked at everyone, nervously chewing his lip as he stared at the throne. His Father had sat there less than a week ago. It didn’t feel right as he climbed the stairs. He stopped halfway up and looked back to Mark as he leaned against Autumn. “I can’t do this alone.” 

Ethan quickly hopped down the steps and grasped Mark’s hand, “come with me?” 

Mark’s eyes widened and he started to shake his head, wincing at the quick movement, “I couldn’t I’m not-” 

“Please,” he insisted, gripping Mark’s hand tightly. “I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for you. I want you by my side.” 

Mark looked at the throne hesitantly before he sighed and gave Ethan a tired smile. “Anything for you.” 

He slid under Mark’s arm and wrapped a supportive arm around his waist as they hobbled up the stairs to the throne together. Once they got to the top, Mark grunted and slowly sank to one knee. “This is as far as I’m going. Your Majesty.” 

Ethan blushed at the earnest look in Mark’s eyes and looked at the empty throne. He took a deep breath and felt Winter’s calming reassurance as he let his hand stroke the arm of the throne. He took one last look at Mark before he slowly sat down. It didn’t feel any different from any other chair, and he self-consciously adjusted his crown as Autumn and Summer cheered weakly. 

“All hail King Ethan! All hail King Winter!” Autumn joked. “Where’s the wine?” 

“Ethan, Winter’s King,” both he and Winter said at the same time. “That’s what we shall be called.” 

“Long may Ethan, Winter’s King reign,” Mark announced, giving him a soft look. 

Ethan couldn’t help himself as he shot out of his throne and towards Mark. He pulled his knight up, despite his pained protests. “My first order as King is to command you to kiss me.” 

“As you wish, Your Majesty.” 

  
  


  
  
  


  
  
  



End file.
